


But All That I Have is This Old Dream

by saaliyah



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 03:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saaliyah/pseuds/saaliyah
Summary: For not the last time, Aziraphale wonders if he isn’t already just a fallen angel, too naive to realize he has been playing a game in heaven.





	But All That I Have is This Old Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to A 1000 times and then this happened. I hope you enjoy. Follow me @saaliyah on tumblr for more fic, art, and gifsets, or just to say hello!

_I had a dream that you were mine/I’ve had that dream a thousand times_

His gaze has been felt all night. Across the room, through the crowd, every time Aziraphale looks up, there he is ducking his face away with red guilt on his cheeks. He has thought about it. Truly and deeply and longingly. It wouldn’t take much. Making his way over and running his thumb across the blush and asking if he wouldn’t be so kind as to write Fell on that dance card? But he knows better. Knows where the line between them and simple humanity gets drawn.

But isn’t it human to dream?

_I left my room on the west side/I walked from noon until the night_

There is intimacy and privacy in large parties. Here, he can slip out to the garden to take in a breath he doesn’t need but _needs_. No one notices. No one even thinks to pay attention. No one. Just one.

Aziraphale is just moving aimlessly along the hedges with his head in hands. It shouldn’t be this hard. He’s not human so why, why does every moment on this Earth feel like some sort of test? Isn’t his faith supposed to be absolute? Isn’t that one of the perks of his existence? For not the last time, Aziraphale wonders if he isn’t already just a fallen angel, too naive to realize he has been playing a game in heaven.

_I changed the crowd, I ditched my tie/I watched the sparks fly off the fire_

He feels him before he sees his reflection in the fountain pool. He is: the feeling of a too-hot mug of tea in your hands, the stray ember of a bonfire of your skin, the taste of saltwater on your lips as you walk along the ocean, and a dog roaring full blind your way and your eyes close in fear and then when you are brave enough to look-  
there the animal is sweet, stopped at your feet, at your mercy, and all you can do is cry.

“I thought you loved these things, angel.” Have you ever felt the warmth of skin through layers of cloth and a foot of air? It is intoxicating, “All big and grand. Heavenly, even.”

“I needed- ” Time. Answers. The right question. Aziraphale finally allows a glance in his direction. A different life.

“I needed a moment.”

_I found your house, I didn’t even try/ They closed the shutters, they closed the blinds _

“Would you care for some company? For your moment?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.” But it sounds like do you really want one?

_ My eyes were red, the streets were bright/ Those ancient years were black and white _

_I have wondered what you taste like. _He sits down on the grass first. Aziraphale follows. He will always follow, he thinks. Is that his choice? 

Their coats are strayed across the grass behind them. It makes sense to lean back. It all makes sense. Crowley points up at the stars. He names constellations, rewrites their stories. Aziraphale knows he is the filling the air so he doesn’t have to think. About Heaven, about duties, about dichotomies, about faith. He radiates gratitude for it.

When his hand falls back and lands softly over Aziraphale’s, he still radiates. It is all he is capable of. He hopes it is enough. He thinks Crowley understands.  
Have you ever felt the warmth of skin under the sky unsure if this is all you can have but knowing you’ll take it all the same?


End file.
